


Worth Any Price

by tigerlily223



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27029005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerlily223/pseuds/tigerlily223
Summary: After the dark ritual, Loghain returns to his room and finds a surprising guest.
Relationships: Loghain Mac Tir/Warden
Kudos: 9





	Worth Any Price

When Loghain enters his rooms, a warm bath is waiting for him. He sends up a silent thanks to both the Warden and the Maker for small blessings. He is eager to wash the stench of the witch from his body. 

When the Warden approached him earlier, her eyes were full of embarrassment and sadness, but even still he saw her hope beneath it all. Her request was both typical and completely out of character. She is practical and logical almost to a fault, with his continued existence as the evidence, but she lacks the ruthlessness he usually associates with these traits. It was a shame to see war twist her good nature. Although she did not command him, he reluctantly agreed to her request. How could he deny her the chance to live, however slim, after she spared his? He wasn't even sure he would be able to fulfill his side of the bargain. Morrigan held no appeal for him. However, his body knew the motions and he allowed his instincts to take over. It has been a long time since he'd lain with a woman and the deed was done blessedly fast. 

He scrubs his skin until it turns pink and the only scent in the room is that of the soap that was left next to the basin. He pulls on his night clothes, eager for bed. Tomorrow they march to Denerim to fight the archdemon and end this blight. He never sleeps before battle, but never for lack of trying. 

There is a figure in his bed and before he can reach for his dagger, recognition hits him. It's the Warden. Her form seems so much smaller in sleep, but he knows first hand how much impossible strength it holds. He's only seen her face and posture during the day, when she holds the weight of the world on her diminutive shoulders. As she sleeps, her true age is apparent, as young as his own daughter, power and leadership thrust upon her brutally and by his own hand. She rarely sleeps in camp, always volunteering for watch so the others can rest. He suspects the nightmares haunt her as they haunt him, but she never speaks of her own troubles choosing to focus on those around her. He never asks what troubles her. He is well aware many of her troubles have been caused by him. 

He won't wake her, she needs sleep as desperately as he does. She is asleep atop the blanket, so he climbs beneath, careful to ensure their bodies do not touch. For the first time in his war filled life, he sleeps on the eve of battle. 

He isn't sure what internal sense alerts him, but when he opens his eyes, they meet hers. Her eyes are still sleepy and dark emerald in the low light of the fire. She is lying on her side, facing him and he is uncomfortable with the idea that she has been watching him sleep. 

"Are you okay?" she whispers.

"Don't trouble yourself, I'm fine"

She sighs deeply "I'm sorry, Loghain. I never should have asked that of you. I regretted it the moment you went into her room."

When he hears the heaviness of her voice, he expects to find her teary eyed at the admission. When he meets her eyes again, there is only familiar resolve and strength. He respects her for her ability to make hard decisions, but his respect is increased by her ability to stand by them. He wonders what those wise eyes see when they look at him. He wonders why he even cares about her opinion. 

"There are still a few hours before morning, get some more sleep" she whispers and moves to get up, presumably to return to her own quarters. 

Before he can stop himself, his hand wraps around her forearm "Stay." 

She gives him a questioning look and the truth is he doesn't want to be alone. Her presence is soothing, though he will go to his grave before he ever admits that. 

"I left the witch's room earlier, if my much younger commander is seen leaving mine at this hour of the night, just imagine the gossip. Consider my reputation." It's a ridiculous excuse, but it's the best his exhausted mind can come up with on the spot. 

She snorts to cover her laugh, "And what of my reputation?" 

"Already completely in shambles, nothing left to salvage. " 

She lifts the corner of the blanket "May I?" 

He nods and she climbs under the blanket, their bodies still carefully separated by the expanse of the bed. He feels her hand slide into his and squeeze "Good night, Loghain"

He rubs his thumb over her knuckles, her hands as rough and calloused as his own.

"Your life is worth the price." His voice is so quiet it can barely be called a whisper. It's the only admission he's willing to make. 

She squeezes his hand again, more gently this time as her breathing evens out and she sleeps again. Eventually, the warmth and comfort lull him into sleep as well. 

Though they fall asleep hand in hand, when he wakes the entire length of her body is pressed against his. Her back to his chest, their legs tangled and his arms are wrapped around her. 

In the pre dawn light, he allows himself to savor the feel of her body against his. If he falls in battle today, he's grateful that the memory of his final night will be of the strong, smart, brave woman in his arms and not the feel of the witch. There is nothing soft or delicate about the Warden, but he is able to pretend for just a moment that he will be able to protect her from all the evil they will face today. He knows he will fight hard, not just for his own redemption but to ensure that she is able to survive and move on. Ferelden needs her. They all need her. Her life is worth any price


End file.
